


A Helping Hand

by Pixiestick_cc



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Post-Canon, Supportive Phoebe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiestick_cc/pseuds/Pixiestick_cc
Summary: Helga never quite grows out of her crazy antics, and Phoebe is always there to lend a hand.





	

This wasn’t how she intended to spend lunch period, and it was all annoyingly reminiscent of another time she’d fallen through a ceiling while trying to take away incriminating evidence. Last time it had involved Arnold and the boarding house’s answering machine. This time … well, he was involved again. Criminy, would there ever be a time in her life when that football head wouldn’t be the cause of her torment?

That wasn’t fair though. As he aged, that football head had turned into a rather normal shaped head and her old term of harassment was no longer relevant. Just like her fake hatred for him. She’d stopped that long ago. And with that her wacky adventures like dangling from a ceiling should’ve ended. But not so it would seem considering her current situation. Helga was lucky it had happened during lunch. Although she probably wouldn’t have been climbing through the ceiling if it had been during class, so it was more strategic calculation than luck. Problem was, she hadn’t intended on falling through a worn ceiling tile and getting her foot caught on the way down. Lunch was just about over and any minute a steady stream of students would come rushing down the hall.

“Helga? Is that you?”

She tensed for a split second, but then felt a swooping sensation in her gut after realizing it was just Phoebe. Or maybe it was the blood rushing to her head making her imagine she was hearing Phoebe. How long had she been upside down anyway? It felt like hours. “Well, it ain’t Mother Theresa that’s for sure,” Helga sardonically replied. Mocking herself was the only way she could come to terms with what had happened. And Mother Theresa most definitely wouldn’t be spending her lunch period dangling from a ceiling.

“I wondered where you were at lunch, and assumed you must have gone off to run an errand,” Phoebe spoke as she moved from behind Helga to stand in front of her. So she wasn’t a hallucination afterall ... either that or so much blood had rushed to her head that she was now seeing things.

“Phoebe, do you know me at all? I do _not_ run errands.”

“No, it would appear not. You would much rather dangle from ceilings.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but Helga could recognize when her friend was making a smart-ass comment. It was a habit she’d picked up from years of friendship with the most sarcastic blonde in Hillwood. Helga felt a sense of pride and also annoyance.

“Can you just … can you get me down before I faint?” Helga asked exasperatedly. “Everything’s starting to get all … all blurry. Are you even real?” She reached out her finger and tried to touch Phoebe. Fake or real Phoebe grasped Helga’s hand before it could reach its destination of her nose. “Awww, I wanted to honk it,” Helga whined. “It looks so squishy.”

Phoebe chuckled. “I’m real, but you’re starting to act very un-Helga like. I better put a stop to this before you say something nice.”

“Screw you,” Helga retorted.

“Now there’s the Helga I know and love.” Without warning, Phoebe yanked and whatever Helga's foot was caught on gave way. It happened so fast she didn’t even have time to yell as the floor came rushing up to greet her, but did manage to let out a mixture of a groan and whine- a grine- once the impact was felt.

“Want some help?” Phoebe asked, crouching down and offering the same hand she’d used to pull Helga out of the ceiling.

“No, thanks,” Helga said, wincing as she sat up. “I don’t trust that thing.”

“How else was I supposed to get you out of there?”

“You could’ve warned me before you pulled me to my doom.” Helga rubbed the side of her face.

“And you could have not gone crawling through the school’s ceiling,” Phoebe pleasantly countered. “Which one of these is the weirder occurrence?”

Helga was quiet for a few seconds before admitting, “Fair point,” and then accepted Phoebe’s offer of help.

“Now please tell me the reason you did this didn’t have anything to do with Arnold.” The way she spoke, as if already knowing the answer, sent a sliver of guilt up Helga’s spine. But only a sliver. Any more than that and she’d have to give her therapist a call. Today was not an existential crisis day.

“Hey, you can’t quit these sort of things cold turkey,” Helga defended herself.

“Cold turkey?” Phoebe shook her head in that motherly, _I love you but you drive me crazy_ way Helga wished Miriam was capable of doing. “It’s been five years. Remember what you said in fifth grade? No more obsessing. Time to focus on me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. And for the most part I have. But you know, relapse is a thing,” Helga shot back defensively. She didn’t feel like regurgitating her oath from half a decade ago when these types of extracurricular activities were more common and she’d seen a pattern that needed to be squashed. Phoebe should give her credit for how little these events did happen anymore.

Patting Helga’s back, Phoebe looked up- way up considering Helga was nearly 5 inches taller than her 5 foot 4 inches frame. “Two steps forward, and one step back, I suppose,” she said, dropping any sort of lecture that on a different day she might’ve let loose. “But getting stuck in a ceiling is a scale of crazy I haven’t seen from you for some time. Care to share with me what set you off?”

“Well, my blood sugar’s a little low right now. You got anything to eat?” Helga asked. “I can’t really get into what happened until I've got food in my stomach.”

Phoebe smirked. “You’re lucky I’m always around to help, Helga.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a bag a chips.

“And I’ll never not be grateful for that,” Helga breezily replied, swiping the bag, and feeling mildly disappointed that they were plain potato chips and not salt and vinegar.

“Oh no. You’re being nice. Sure you didn’t hit your head too hard? Do I need to take you to the nurse's office?”

Helga snickered. “Watch it or I won’t give you the full details of the ceiling story.”

Phoebe looked thoughtfully at Helga. “Yes you will. You always do.”

She was right. Helga did always blab to Phoebe. Ever since the sordid tale of her lifelong crush on Arnold had been revealed, it had become a staple of their friendship for Phoebe to be the listening ear to all of Helga’s internal drama. And boy did she have a lot of that. “Okay then, I’ll make you wait for it,” Helga snarked as she shoved a chip in her mouth and winked.

And Phoebe, her ever loyal friend, smiled up at Helga. “Waiting on you is what I do best … waiting to offer you a helping hand when you get yourself into these crazy situations, that is.”

Helga returned Phoebe's grin with one of her own. “Thanks. It means a lot that you're willing to put up with me.” So few people did.

"Well, someone has to be there to pick you up when you're down," Phoebe mused, raising her voice slightly to talk over the ringing bell indicating lunch period had ended.

"And I'm glad that someone is you," Helga replied without a hint of sarcasm.

* * *

Story is based off of [this fan art](http://pixiestickers.tumblr.com/post/155692711783/bloatingcheeseface-a-doodle-of-helga-and-phoebe). I saw it and was inspired to write. The artist's account is no longer active, so I had to link it through my own tumblr.

 


End file.
